


Eighth Wonder

by valentineschocolategore



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Disabled Character, Emotional Manipulation, Familial Relationships, Mental Illness, PTSD, Physical Abuse, Toxic Behavior, Toxic Relationships, Verbal Abuse, but in the au i’m making, its mostly for me, i’m writing a warriors of hope centered fic, so this will be character studies of each warrior of hope!, where the warriors of hope thing ended early
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21843592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valentineschocolategore/pseuds/valentineschocolategore
Summary: Everyone leaves her, forgets her, tosses her aside. She’s starting to accept it. She’s starting to want it. It’s so easy to take control of someone who’s never had it.
Kudos: 9





	Eighth Wonder

Her earliest memories are. . . lacking. Her father looks at her in disgust and his words bite at her skin, rip into her like feral dogs. Sometimes she screams until she’s shaking and begging for it to stop, sometime his voice is soft, soft as can be, but that makes it hurt worse. She learned it from him- how to make people listen. How to make people hurt.

Monaca Towa never had a friend. The nannies came and went and her brother left bruises that she hid and the nannies and butlers never spoke, never said a word, just handed her powder to cover them so she wouldn’t be unsightly. 

She didn’t remember what she did to make her brother so mad. But he was screaming, he was screaming and she was backing away and all she could feel was fear fear fear and a scratching, crawling anger that refused to help her. Her back hit the railing of the stairs and he lifted her up, above it, her toes barely touching and he whispered “Who would even miss you?” And she fell. For a moment, she thought she was flying, and then pain became her entire world.

She could walk, sometimes. It hurt, sent pain shooting up her spine and curling in her stomach like a hot dagger. But she could. She always said she couldn’t. Otherwise- she knew what they would say. ‘Do you even need that wheelchair?’ She did! She did she did she did it hurt all the time it hurt so badly she couldn’t breathe somedays and her brother never said sorry and he knew and he made her walk and just watched and smiled and smiled until she screamed and they didn’t care no one cared-

Until someone did. Big sis cared. She met her one day, her father forgot her again and a lady walked up and she smiled, and monaca knew something was wrong seconds after because her smile reached her eyes but not in the right way at all. Her name was Junko. And she wanted her help.

Then she met other children, at a school her father dumped her at. It was boring. She’d done things better as a tiny child, but she played along. Behind their backs she was creating wonders for Big sis and her father and brother didn’t notice. They’d never notice. Why start now?

They were like her, in a way. All crumpled up and ruined like a bad drawing dumped in the wastebasket. They were boring and they grew not to be and she tried to be like Big sis and not care, not care at all but she did. She didn’t want them to get hurt. That’s why she did it. It was for them. Despair was good, it was wonderful and they deserved such a feeling. They deserved despair. And if she had to give it to them, she would. 

They went on the roof, and she rolled to the edge and stared over and she wondered how it would feel to fly. She’d fallen once. She’d fall again. But how would it feel to fly? Big sis stopped them before it happened. Somedays monaca wished she had never come. 

Big sis left and she didn’t come back and monaca knew why. she missed her, so badly it ripped into her chest and squished her heart and she wondered, she wondered if this was the despair big sis felt when she killed her sister. Monaca killed her father and felt nothing, nothing at all. Maybe she should have. But nothing came.

She felt, she told herself she didn’t but she did and as she watched things fall around her like she did she couldn’t help but cry. This was the despair she had wanted for so long. And she hated it.


End file.
